


The Doomed Prince and His Mistress

by ufp13



Series: hooker!verse [4]
Category: Nola (2003)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ufp13/pseuds/ufp13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo messed up one time too many and Margaret thinks it's time he's punished for it. Pure smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Doomed Prince and His Mistress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sira/gifts).



> WARNING: anal sex, BDSM (I mean it. If spanking, bondage, male sub and/or strap-ons aren't your thing, stay away!)
> 
> Thank you for the beta, Sam. *hugs*

He groaned out loudly when her hand once again collided with his ass. Never in his life had he expected to ever find himself in such a situation, in this position. Yet, here he was, on his knees, his head resting on the floor, his hands tied together in front of him, a pole between his feet, chained at the ankles. Humiliated was too weak a word to describe how he felt at the moment. However, his body betrayed his mind. His cock was rock hard under her hands which caressed him now, only to hit him then. Her mouth kissed him all over, marked him all over – hickeys, bites. The pattern was completed by scratches over his back, chest and legs. The bruises would surely remain for a few days to come and remind him of this evening and thereby of not neglecting his private life, his woman again in favour of work.

Twice, he had forgotten evening plans with her over work. Once, he had at least remembered to call her to tell her that he wouldn’t make it; the other time, only his blanket and pillow on the couch when he had finally found his way home had steered his memory. To say Margaret hadn’t been amused would be an understatement.

Thus when she had told him about the plan to visit some friends of hers with him two weeks ago, he had made a big, fat, red note in his calendar to not forget her again, for it would definitely get him more than just one night on the couch, and he hated to sleep without her next to him, had gotten so used to her presence that he found it difficult to find rest alone. A strange thing, considering that, for ages, he had been unable to stand another person in his bed unless it was for sex, but that was before he and Margaret had started anew. With her, it was different. She had torn down his barriers just like he had destroyed hers when it came to intimacy. They had taught each other, were still learning actually.

Anyway, he hadn’t expected this kind of establishment. He hadn’t even gotten a good glimpse at it, for as soon as they had been through the door, Margaret behind him, he had been grabbed by two strong pairs of arms, a third blindfolding him. The urge to fight back had been strong, but her telling him to relax before he hurt himself or anybody else had him calming down, although he had been unable to hold back a question as to what the fuck was going on there. “Punishment,” had been her answer, a tone of unmistakable, diabolic joy in the voice. He had never heard that particular timbre directed at him before, had known her capable of it, though, and had not been sure whether it was a good or a bad thing. Even over an hour later, he still hadn’t decided.

The men had grabbed him, had stripped him down to his briefs and tied him up. Then they had left and Margaret had removed the blindfold. Laying his eyes on her again, his mouth had dried instantly. The jeans and top she had come here in had been replaced by a black corset and short skirt combined with high-heeled, knee-length boots. She looked like all the mistress he knew she could be, could impersonate if she wanted to, but she also looked like the woman he loved, adored, could spend hours touching, kissing, caressing, making love to. It was that mixture which made it clear that this was a private show, different from anything she had ever done for, with a client.

“You deserve punishment,” she had stated, and all he could do was nod, his eyes trailing unfocused up and down her body, not knowing where to look first, wanting everything at once, wanting everything in detail. “Something special that will always remind you to at least pick up the damn phone and call me on time if you’re drowning in work.”

Again he had nodded.

“It’s not that I don’t understand business, but I want to know if you can’t make it and not stand in front of a theatre for over an hour all dressed up, waiting for you.”

“I’m sorry.” He had managed to drag his eyes off her curves to meet hers.

“You said so before, and I believed you. Still do. But I also believe that a reminder can’t hurt. Well, it will hurt, but...” She had trailed off while retrieving a knife from behind her back.

His eyes had widened in fear. He had been sure she would never hurt him, not overly so, but right now, he couldn’t stop himself from being a bit afraid of her and the obviously sharp instrument she was holding.

Recognising the dominant emotion in his eyes, she had kneeled down beside him, palmed his chin and kissed him tenderly. “No, love. But these,” she had pushed the knife under the waistband of his briefs, “have to go,” and she had cut one side. While he had let out a breath he hadn’t even known he had been holding, she had repeated the motion on the other side. His cock had been relieved to be rid of the confining garment. But the sigh of relief had somehow gotten stuck in his throat when her flat hand had forcefully landed on his bottom for the first time a moment later.

Right now, she was showering his by-now-burning, red skin with feathery kisses. Not one tear he had shed during the whole rather torturous experience whose arousing aspect couldn’t be denied nonetheless, but the tenderness of the touch and the words of love she murmured touched him, made his eyes water.

“Love you, babe.”

“You still do?” She smiled, raising an eyebrow as to teasingly question his sanity.

“Always will.”

“We’ll see what you think once I’m done with you.” Her giggle did nothing to reassure him, although he doubted there was anything she could do to change his mind about his feelings for her. Yet...

“Done with me?”

“Yep, party’s not over yet, love. We got all night.”

“Where are we anyway?” The question had occupied his mind for some time now, but had taken a backseat time and again as other things had been more important. Now that there was a natural break in the session, though, it seemed a good time to get his curiosity satisfied. He also wanted to ask if she would kindly unchain him, but he knew better than to ask. He had kissed his dignity goodbye in the meantime, anyway.

“Welcome to ‘The Dungeon’.” She grinned, making a grand gesture. “An old friend of mine owns this club and was so kind as to lend me the keys and two of her boys for tonight because she's currently on vacation.”

“Her boys?” The memory of the easiness with which said “boys” had handled him due to their strength had him raise an eyebrow in doubt, protest.

Unable to contain her giggles, it took her a while to answer. “Yes, her boys. They work here, mostly as eye candy for the mistresses but also to throw out troublemakers if necessary. They’re nice boys and easy to please.”

“Easy to please?!” he almost growled. While he knew that she had had many a lover in her life, mainly due to her occupation, the caveman in him didn’t like to think of it, to be reminded of it. She was his. His alone. Nobody else was allowed to kiss her all over, to trail his tongue from her bosom to down between her wet folds. That was his privilege, and even the submissive position he was in right now didn’t do anything to reign in his possessiveness of her. A possessiveness she used to tease him about, a possessiveness he knew she secretly enjoyed.

“Oh yes, you only need to arrive in dirty boots or slap them hard on the ass and they’re happy,” she said in the most conversational voice.

Dirty boots? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But even if he had, he didn’t get the chance to make any comment, for she chose that moment to slide a slick, cold finger between his cheeks, startling him into a yelp.

“Cold, honey?” she asked, feigning innocence and wonder.

“No, sweetheart. What makes yo-“ The rest of his sarcastic answer fell victim to her pushing a finger into his anus as unannounced as unexpected, his sphincter tightening around the intruder in protest.

“You were saying, honey?”

She didn’t really expect him to play word games with her when she had a finger in his ass, a place where it had never been before, shouldn’t be. Or maybe the opposite was true, and it was exactly where it should be? No woman had ever even come close to doing what she was doing. One overenthusiastic, young blonde had once hinted at it, but he had made it clear that he didn’t want it, that she would not be allowed to do anything of the likes. And now? Now, he had hooked up with an ex-hooker, was tied up in an SM club and found himself unable to protest, to resist her. He trusted her, trusted her more than he had ever trusted anyone, trusted her enough to let her do what he had never even contemplated doing before, trusted her to stop any moment should he voice his unease, something he still hadn’t ruled out as her finger pushed deeper. Real men didn’t get fucked in the ass, not in his world, but real men also didn’t fall in love with hookers and get domesticated by them, and they especially didn’t enjoy getting fucked in the ass, yet he moaned out in pleasure as the first discomfort eased.

“Like?” Margaret breathed into his ear, tracing its rim with the tip of her tongue while slowly rotating her finger, nudging his prostate in the process.

The coherency he had gained between the foreign sensations, emotions of getting spanked and now started to leave him once more. Damn her for knowing all too well how to play a man, how to play him. Apparently, she knew his buttons better than he did. He started to understand what she meant when she said he’d know her too well.

“Maybe,” he managed to force out.

“Maybe? Well, maybe, this will help you decide then.” She pulled her finger out almost entirely and, before he could even consider mourning the loss, added a second one, scissoring them slightly to stretch him. Out of instinct, he tensed. “Relax,” she urged him tenderly, halting any motion of her hand, waiting for him to do just that.

Concentrating hard on that part of his body he tended not to think of all that much, he slowly succeeded in doing as she had asked, encouraged by her lips lovingly caressing his. A hum of approval and commendation slipped into the kiss as she felt the tension leaving his body. Breaking the connection, she shifted back to his lower body, thrusting into his anus with her fingers, spreading them, rubbing his walls.

When she, after some time, had a third finger join the fun, he started to feel full, began to think he couldn’t take more than that. But then again, what else did she want to do? Fist his ass? Not possible. Deciding this was as far as she could go, his mind carefully followed his body down the path of enjoyment which the latter had taken quite a while ago, whereas the former was still fighting with his male pride, not amused about his cock throbbing rather happily with arousal.

Just as he was about to fully throw himself into the sensations she created in his body, just as he allowed himself to feel good doing this, she stopped, retracted her fingers, left him dry. Only barely, he managed to withhold the growl that threatened to escape him at this unexpected, unwelcome action. Yet, she seemed to have heard, noticed nonetheless, for she teasingly commented on it, raising his frustration because she obviously knew very well how to play him. He’d had enough of those games for now, wanted her to stop playing and finally deliver the pleasure she had introduced him to. However, he knew her well enough to not expect that to happen anytime soon unless she wanted it. And Margaret could be patient.

Lost in his frustration, trying to get the upper hand over his emotions, knowing that they wouldn’t do him any good right now, he didn’t hear the shuffling and soft clicking behind him and was thus caught by surprise again when cold lube was applied to his anus. Again, his body tensed in uncomfortable anticipation. What was she up to now?

The answer came in the form of something being pushed into his ass that most definitely was not her fingers. Her hands gripped his hips similar to how he used to hold on to her when he took her from behind, traced her spine with his tongue. It wasn’t his favourite position as it denied him the sight of her face – unless they happened to have a mirror nearby. Never before had he experienced – or even imagined – the power this grip had over the person on the receiving end, had only relished how it made him feel to hold, to take her like that.

The sensation of her pelvis colliding with his backside after she had slowly pushed the phallus imitation all the way in was foreign even in spite of her prior fingering. While it felt strange to have their positions reversed for once, he had lost every and all reservation against the penetration process. Who would have thought that macho he would once understand, sympathise even, with gay love? It definitely took some getting used to, the feeling of fullness down there, but trust, an open mind and relaxation could do wonders.

His hard-on throbbed painfully as she thrust into him again and again, carefully at first, testing the waters, not wishing to hurt him, but soon with more force behind the movements of her hips. He wished for a mirror, wished he could see her working him, see the expression of concentration mixed with joy he was sure she wore at the moment, the way her body moved – powerful yet always graceful. Watching her ride him was one of his favourite pastimes, and he doubted the sight of her taking him from behind with a strap-on would be any less exciting. However, the sensations he already experienced were almost too much, so the additional visual might just be the straw that would break the camel’s back. Nonetheless, he wanted to see it, her. If that implied a repeat performance, he wouldn’t be sorry, although he’d prefer to do it without the pole and the chains. The biggest obstacle, though, would be to speak the words, to ask her to do this with him, to him once more. More or less secretly enjoying it was one thing, asking for it a totally different one – at least for him. But then, it was her, and he trusted her unconditionally. He would get over himself, would have to if he wanted to see her, them in this position.

As the grip on his hips tightened, he no longer could suppress any sounds of pleasure, his desire and need running high. With his erection painful, it wouldn’t take him much longer to come. Just a bit more stimulation and he would be done for. Past caring about anything but the feeling of release, he began to beg for her to push him over the edge. A mistake as he had to realise a moment later when she pulled out almost all the way but didn’t push back in, holding still, reminding him that this was punishment not reward.

A loud groan of frustration escaped him, causing her to giggle lightly behind him. Loosening her grip on his hip, she gently caressed his back to soothe him.

“Not so fast,” she said, a slightly sadistic amusement evident in her voice. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Another groan. He couldn’t believe she pulled the card of orgasm denial. His forgetting couldn’t possibly have been that bad to put him through this in addition to the humiliation of being dragged to his knees, chained and fucked in the ass by a woman – although he had definitely gotten over the latter. However, it seemed he didn’t have a choice, a say in this matter. She was in charge of this game, and there was no way for him to convince her to change the rules. All he could do was wait – or rather, go where she took his body, him. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to get her back for this stunt at some point, especially since he loved having her all keyed up underneath him, loved seeing her flushed with arousal, panting hard, on the edge of begging. A state he tried to put her in as often as possible whenever possible. Although, they had never done it in a sex club before – for various reasons, none of which mattered right now as she thrust into him again hard and fast. Loudly, he groaned out at the motion that was unexpected, especially in its force.

Twice more did she pull that stunt on him before she finally showed mercy and rubbed his cock in sync with her thrusts, granting him the long-wished-for release. When the orgasm overtook his body, it lifted a weight off it – or at least, that was how it appeared to him as every muscle in his body seemed to relax at once. If he had been in a different position – standing, hovering over her – he would have collapsed right that very moment. However, as it was, he couldn’t go down much farther. A good thing, considering the mess he would have landed in. Even though that wouldn’t have mattered much, for his skin was slick with sweat and probably some saliva, and he was long since beyond caring about it. He had just had one of the best, most mind-blowing orgasms of his life – if not the best one – exhaustion was about to take over the reign over his body, but his mind refused to accept the rule of emptiness. Whereas the body was sated, the mind, the ego were not. Coming into thin air seldom left him satisfied all-around these days. Somewhere along the road, the whole sex thing had come to be about more than just the act and the physical pleasure, the joining with the woman who he loved, who loved him, the emotions set free by being this near to her more important than the orgasm their nearness ultimately resulted in.

Carefully, she pulled out, giving him time to calm down, to process what had just happened. And being busy with his emotions and the sensations flooding his body, he didn’t notice anything happening around him. Eventually, her voice brought him out of his reverie.

“Roll over,” she said, kneeling beside his head, stroking his hair tenderly.

It was an awkward motion with the pole between his legs, but he managed to do as she had asked. Meanwhile, she stood up again. From the floor, he had a good view up her body, along her spectacularly long legs under her skirt. No panties. He groaned, feeling his mouth water at the sight. This, his woman was such a temptress. The intensity with which he desired her should shock him and might have done so at some point in the past, but not anymore. He had gotten used to the power she had over him and his emotions.

And damn, she was wet. He wanted nothing more than to pull her down and devour her. However, his still-tied hands proved to be a serious problem in that regard. He needn’t have worried, though, because, for what seemed like the first time tonight, her plans coincided with his.

Stepping over him with one foot, she towered directly above him at the level of his shoulders. He could stop staring at her, looking her up and down, sure his gaze was filled with hunger and lust. If such an open desire would get him more punishment, he didn’t know, but he didn’t care either, for he refused to disguise his feelings for her. Once, he had done so; now, it just wasn’t possible anymore. He wasn’t ashamed of loving, desiring her.

The smile on her face told him she didn’t mind his longing gaze, quite the contrary.

Putting her hands on his shoulders, she kneeled down again, kissing him softly. To his surprise, his attempt to deepen the kiss was successful. For long moments, it dragged on. He even managed to draw a hum from her throat. During it all, she fell onto her knees. In result, her wetness pressed against his chest.

They were both panting when the kiss ended. She regained her posture faster, though. With a twinkle in her eyes, she slid forward, upward along his body until her wet sex hovered over his face.

“Eat me,” she demanded – unnecessarily as far as he was concerned, for it was what he wanted anyway. Generally, he preferred different positions for this – and that didn’t refer to his being tied up, well, not only – but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and he wanted to hear her scream. So he took the chance she presented him with to make that happen. After what she had done to him, one might say she didn’t deserve it, but he’d beg to differ.

He pushed his tongue between her labia to savour her wetness, to taste her, to tenderly rub her clitoris. The assistance of his hands would have been greatly appreciated, but he would make due.

Supported with both hands on either side of his waist, Margaret leaned back over him, arched her pelvis into his oral touch. Unable to resist even under these circumstances, he teased her, gently bit her labia, scratched her clit with his teeth, did all the things he knew drove her wild but didn’t push her over the edge. It might get him additional punishment, but it was definitely worth it, for she began to move and moan over him. Thankful that she hadn’t blindfolded him again, he enjoyed the view while never ceasing his stimulations.

Eventually, she had enough. “Stop. Teasing.” Her voice was somewhat breathless, but the order unmistakable.

Since she was clearly in charge tonight and held the power of the keys for his bindings, he gave in for once without further delay or cheeky comments. No angering the authorities when you depended on their kindness. So he thrust his tongue hard and fast into her again and again until she came shortly after, screaming her pleasure. While she trembled above him, resting more of her weight on him by now, he continued lapping her juices, caressing her with his mouth, wishing to prolong the experience for her.

Not really in control of her voice, she put an end to his ministrations by blocking his access to her with a hand. Nothing he could do against that – much to his dismay.

Slowly, she slid down his body until her whole body rested on his. Only then did she take her hand off his mouth again, replacing it with her lips, kissing him languidly, deeply, not minding tasting herself on him. Another thing he loved about her. In the past, he had been with women who insisted he washed his mouth before they would kiss him again – something he considered annoying and a turn off. If you engaged in sex, you had to accept that it could – and most often did – get messy. Fortunately, Margaret didn’t have a problem with that.

“Next time you’re going to be late or won’t be able to make it...,” she began a sentence once the kiss had ended.

“I’ll call,” he finished, making a promise.

Looking into his eyes as if she was searching for a hint of dishonesty, she nodded after a few moments. “Care for a shower?”

“Rhetorical question?” he grinned.

“Yep,” she laughed and got up to release him from the chains. First, she freed his legs, then she unlocked the handcuffs.

Carefully, he stretched his muscles, sat up, rubbing his wrists. The skin was slightly red and tender, but he wouldn’t complain, knew better than that.

After a short while during which she gently massaged his ankles, she helped him up and led him through the club into a bathroom that also housed a shower. Seeing his surprise at it, she shrugged. “My friend insisted on having one. You never know when you might need it, and the guests appreciate it. Now, get in,” she said, starting to undress.

Observing her, he turned on the water, waiting for it to warm up.

Even though she couldn’t resist teasing him in the process, it didn’t take long and she was as naked as he was.

Stepping under the warm spray, he pulled her into his embrace, relishing the feeling of her body skin-to-skin against his.

They took their time washing each other, touching, caressing, fondling.

Certain parts of his body were still tender and hurt slightly when touched. The coming days would surely be interesting. Only good that today was Friday and he had the weekend off. Sitting at his desk in the office might not have worked out overly well, might have raised questions he didn’t want to answer.

Once they agreed they were clean – some time after the fact – they got out of the shower to continue caressing each other with the towels Margaret had stored in the bathroom earlier.

Indulging himself, he spent a while rubbing her breasts, teasing her nipples with the rough surface of the otherwise soft fabric. She didn’t make any attempts to stop him, surrendered to his ministrations, granted him the freedom to play with her as he pleased. After a while, her knees became weak, but she only leaned back against the shower stall and let him be.

At times, she had accused him of having an obsession with her breasts as he loved to spend hours lying next to her, tracing their curvy lines with his fingers, had a problem taking his eyes off them when she wore something with a low neckline – which was almost always. Even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t object, wasn’t the least bit ashamed of desiring her and her curves. As far as he was concerned, he was simply being a red-blooded, human male. And not few men – as well as some women – had shot him envious looks. After a long time of denying himself to be with her due to his stupid pride, he now wanted to make up for lost time. If that made him a fool in love, so be it. For year – decades, actually – love had been a very elusive concept for him. Then he had met Margaret and had run away from the best thing that had happened to him ever, scared of his own feelings, alien feelings. Fortunately – or unfortunately, he wasn’t sure which – she hadn’t fared better than he. She had understood him but hadn’t confronted him. The former was a good thing, the latter what had kept them apart for so long. However, he couldn’t – and wouldn’t – drop the blame at her door. Anyway, it was history now as he had her in his life again, and at the moment, naked in his arms to do with as he pleased.

He considered making her sweat all over again, but in the end, decided against it. They could do that at home where they could cuddle up in bed afterwards, which he wanted more than anything right now – to feel her close, to feel their love for each other that made experiences like tonight possible without ruining their relationship or the trust it was founded on.

Slowly, the reluctance obvious, he let go of her, took a step back.

“Home?” she asked for confirmation of her interpretation of his actions.

“Home,” he nodded.

She bridged the distance between them again to kiss him before passing him to get their clothes, not bothering to even wrap a towel around herself to cover her body, thus giving him a good view of her retreating form.

A silly grin on his face, he followed her, confident that they could get through everything – in their own, occasionally rather unique way.

 

= End=


End file.
